"It's right here." She points to the door we're standing next to.
"Oh. Okay, well, I'll see you later." I walk off.
"Sorry I can't be there for lunch," I hear her call out.
She doesn't know about my lunch date and I'm not sure if I'll tell her. She'll make it into a big deal and it's not. Wesley is just new and doesn't want to sit alone. Maybe he won't even be there, or maybe he'll have lunch with someone else.
Entering the cafeteria is like entering a landmine for me. There are crowds of people all around, all carrying trays of food. If I'm not extremely careful, I might accidentally bump into one of them, sending the contents of their tray flying all over the place. This has happened more than once so now I'm extra cautious when I go in the lunch room. I try to remember to keep looking left and right and not make any sudden turns.
"What are you getting?" I hear a voice ask.
To my left I see Wesley standing there. How long has he been there? I've been in line several minutes now. Was he there the whole time?
"Um..." I peer around the people in front of me so I can see what's being served today. It's spaghetti, which is messy so not something to eat on a date. Wait—this isn't a date. It's school lunch. So why does it feel like a date?
"I'm getting spaghetti," Wesley says. "With a side of cheesy bread. And maybe a brownie."
"That's a lot of carbs."
"I know." He chuckles. "Darren would die if he saw me eating that. Maybe I'll take a picture and send it to him."
"Is Darren your mom's boyfriend?"
"Yeah. They live together now and he won't allow carbs in the house. My mom used to love pasta and now she can't have it."
"Why can't she have it? She can't let that guy tell her what to eat."
"Did I forget to mention he's also her trainer? That's how they met. So he actually can tell her what to eat. She doesn't have to listen to him but she does. She wants to get ripped like a bikini model. Her words, not mine."
"Was she always like that? Wanting to look like that?"
"No. It started when she met Darren. He convinced her she could look like a bikini model if she worked hard enough. She'd come home from the gym and show my dad pictures of models and tell him she was going to look like that. He brushed her off, thinking she was kidding, then he'd tell her she looked good the way she was. That should've made her happy but instead it made her mad. She wanted him to like that she was working hard to change her body, but he didn't think she needed to change."
"And this Darren guy reacted the way she was hoping your dad would. That's why she liked him."
"Yeah. He gave her the attention she was looking for. I think it's one of those midlife crisis things where you hit middle age and think you have to make some major change in your life before it's all over. For my dad, that turned out to be moving here. He never thought he'd move back to Wisconsin but after my mom left, he felt like he needed to do something big to show her he's not afraid of change."
"But now you don't see your mom."
"I still see her. She works for an airline so she can fly here for free whenever she wants. She was here last weekend. She came to the house so that was awkward."
"Because of your dad?"
"Yeah. They hadn't seen each other since we moved last June. I flew out to see her a couple times last summer so she wouldn't have to come here."
"Was her boyfriend there?"
"No. He was off at fitness competitions both times. We planned it that way. My mom knows I don't like him."
"I'm still surprised she let you move here. She's used to seeing you every day and now she only sees you once a month, if that."
"I'm practically an adult now so she was okay with it. Besides, I think she wanted some alone time with Darren. She didn't want me hanging around."
We're at the front of the line now and the lunch lady is staring at us, looking bored, holding a scoop of spaghetti, a hairnet covering her short gray hair.
"Go ahead," Wesley says to me.
"I'm just getting a salad," I tell the lady.
"A salad?" Wesley asks. "Are you on the bikini diet too?"
"No, I just don't want to get spaghetti sauce on my shirt."
"I doubt that'll happen, and if it does, who cares?" He turns to me. "Do you want spaghetti?"
It does smell good and I'm starving. I skipped breakfast this morning.
When I don't answer, he looks at the lunch lady. "We'll both have the spaghetti. And cheesy bread."
"I don't want the bread. It's too much."
"Then I'll eat it." He takes the plate from the lady and sets it on my tray, then does the same with his own plate. Both are heaping with spaghetti.
We get our drinks and he heads to a table in the middle of the cafeteria. I usually sit toward a back wall where I'll be left alone. Here in the middle, I feel like a spotlight is on us. I can already feel people staring at us.
"What's wrong?" Wesley asks as he takes his seat.
"Why don't we go over there?" I point to a table in the back.
"I like this one better. We're more in the action here."
"What do you mean?"
"We can see what's going on. Maybe we'll meet some people. But I suppose you already know most everyone here."
"Only about half. The other half are from the other high school."
"Great! Then we can both meet people."
"I'm not really looking to meet anyone. I have my friend, Stella. We do everything together, except when she's with Sam, her boyfriend."
"You can't meet anyone new?" He swirls the spaghetti around his fork.
"I can. I just don't need to."
"What about me?"
"What about you?"
"We seem to get along well. Think you can make time for me in your schedule?"
"For what?"
"Hanging out. Going to a movie. Maybe dinner."
Is he asking me out? Because that kind of sounds like a date, but I don't want to assume anything.
"I don't know. I'll have to think about it."
"You're really stuck on that one friend thing, huh?"
"I didn't say that. I'm just thinking you'd probably rather have a guy friend than hang out with a girl."
"So you're making that decision for me?"
"No. That's not what I meant."
He sets his fork down and looks across the table at me. "You're right in that I need to find some guys to hang out with, and I will. I make friends easily. But I really like you and I want to go out with you."
I almost drop my fork. He wants to go out with me? Like on a date? Maybe he actually meant what he put in that note. Maybe he does think I'm beautiful.
"You want to go on a date?" I ask. "With me?"
"I do." He sits back, smiling with that crooked smile.
"Why?"
He lets out a laugh. "Why wouldn't I?"
"Well, for one, my name is Luna."
"I love your name. I think it's awesome. By the way, you never did tell me why you don't like your name."
"Tuna!" Hunter calls out as he walks past me. He and the guy next to him laugh as they continue on to their table.
"Did he just you call you Tuna?" Wesley asks.
"Yes." I feel my face heating up. I really like this guy and now I have to explain that humiliating nickname.
"Why did he call you Tuna?"
"Because I was in a tuna commercial when I was a kid. Hunter, the guy who just walked by, gave me the name back in first grade. It never went away because, for one, it rhymes with my name, and two, my mom always made me tuna fish sandwiches for lunch and it stunk up the lunchroom. I got made fun of for years."
"Why didn't you tell your mom to stop making you tuna?"
"Because we didn't have much money back then and the tuna was free. I got a lifetime supply of it from the company I did the commercial for."
"So you never told your mom?"
"No, and I never will. I don't want her feeling bad that I got teased about i
t."
"That's really sweet. Usually kids that age wouldn't care about their parents' money problems, or even know about them."
"They never said anything. I could just tell. But it's not like they couldn't afford something other than tuna. I could've had peanut butter. I just didn't think about it back then. And since I never complained, my mom assumed I liked the tuna so she kept making it."
"And what about now?" He points to my tray. "No tuna today."
"My parents aren't struggling anymore. They both have decent jobs. My mom's a teacher at an elementary school and my dad sells cars."
"What kind?"
"Lexus. He works at the dealership by the university."
"Do you have a car?"
"No. I'm stuck taking the bus." I shove a big bite of spaghetti in my mouth so he won't ask me why I don't have a car. My dad would've got me one if I didn't have vision problems. I told him I could use the mirrors to see out the side of the car but he still wouldn't let me have one.
A girl stops by our table. It's Jamie. I went to middle school with her. She hates me because she had my mom as a teacher back in grade school and my mom used to send her to the principal's office for talking in class.
"Found another nerd to sit with you?" she asks, holding her tray, which holds a container of fat-free yogurt, a bottle of water, and an orange. She doesn't need to lose weight but she always eats like she's on a diet.
"You say that like it's a bad thing," Wesley says.
Jamie stares at him while chomping on her gum. "Huh. You're actually kinda cute, but hanging out with her will destroy your reputation. You know they call her Luna the Lunatic, right?"
Damn. Why did she have to say that? Now Wesley's going to want me to explain how I got that name, which is even worse than the tuna story.
"Nobody calls me that anymore," I say.
She smirks at me. "Then I'll have to bring it back because it fits you perfectly."
"And what's your name?" Wesley asks her.
"Jamie," she says, her eyes going back to him.
"I meant your nickname."
"I don't have one."
"So Luna gets a nickname but no one else does? That doesn't seem fair."
"Whatever." She rolls her eyes. "You'll have one too if you keep hanging out with her."
"Awesome," he says, biting into his cheesy bread. It makes a loud crunch and Jamie cringes. "Can't wait to find out what it is. Maybe I could come up with it myself. Is alliteration a requirement for the name?"
"What?" she asks, her face scrunched up in confusion.
"Alliteration. When words placed closely together have the same sound or letter. Like Luna the Lunatic."
I hate that name but for some reason when Wesley said it, it was kind of funny. Or maybe it was just his explanation that was funny along with the confused look on Jamie's face. She still looks lost, even after he explained it.
She huffs. "You're a nerd just like her. No wonder you're sitting with the Lunatic." And then she walks off.
"Friend of yours?" Wesley kids, wiping his hands together to get the bread crumbs off.
"Yeah. We're besties." I take a piece of bread. I wasn't going to have any but he made it look good.
"So what class do you have after lunch?"
"Algebra, I think. I can't remember. I have to check." I bite into my bread, nervously chewing because I know he's going to ask about that stupid nickname.
But he doesn't. Instead he asks me what kind of music I listen to and then starts talking about a band he likes from Sacramento. He keeps talking but I start to lose focus, my mind stuck on the fact that he didn't even care about Jamie's rude comments.
"Hold on," I say, stopping him in the middle of a story about a drummer he used to know.
"Yeah? What?"
"When Jamie called you a nerd earlier, that didn't bother you?"
"No. Why would it bother me?"
"Why wouldn't it?"
"She doesn't even know me and I don't know her. Why would I care what she thinks?"
"Because she's really popular, so if she decides she doesn't like you, she'll make sure the whole school doesn't."
"She doesn't have that kind of power."
"Believe me, she does. You don't want to get on her bad side."
"Sounds like I already am, but I really don't care. People only get power over you if you give it to them."
"That's not true. I don't give Jamie power over me. She just takes it."
"You changed when she was here. Your shoulders slumped. You got quieter. You let her affect you and she noticed. If you didn't react, she wouldn't keep bothering you."
"I can't help but react. You saw how she treated me. And then she did it in front of you." My voice trails off and I look down.
"And you thought I'd go along with it?"
"No," I say quietly.
"But you were embarrassed. Because you just met me and I don't know much about you and you wanted to be the one to tell me, to show me who you are, instead of having others do it. And now you think I have this image of you being something you're not because some girl I just met and already have no respect for told me what I should think of you."
He's right. Not just a little right, but exactly right. No one has ever understood me like that, not even Stella. And no one has ever been that truthful with me.
Chapter Four
"Hey." I feel Wesley's knee nudge mine under the table and look up. "I'd never listen to what Jamie or anyone else has to say about you. I'll only listen to you. I want you to be the one to tell me about yourself." He smiles. "Or maybe, if you let me spend time with you, I'll discover who you are without you having to tell me."
I nod, having no idea what to say. He seriously wants to go out with me? After hearing what people call me? Seeing how they treat me? Going out with me would be social suicide.
"As for being called a nerd," he continues, that smile still on his face, "I take that as a compliment. Nerds are generally smart and most are highly successful. In fact, some of the richest people in America were considered nerds when they were our age."
"I still don't like the term."
"It's just a word. Just like people, words don't have power unless you give them it. You can decide the term 'nerd' is a compliment or you can decide it's a put-down. It's up to you."
"It's not that easy."
"It is. Just try it."
"Yeah, okay," I say, shaking my head at his crazy idea.
"Go ahead. Try it."
"I will later. Let's talk about something else."
"The whole tuna thing?" he says, ignoring my request to change the subject. "You got the name because you were on TV. You did a freakin' commercial. You know how cool that is?"
"I don't know. I guess."
"Was it a national commercial?"
"Yeah, so everyone saw it. That's why Hunter gave me the name."
"He did that because he was jealous." He glances at Hunter, who's a few tables down, talking to his friends. "See how he has to be the center of attention? A guy like that would love to be on TV. It'd get him even more attention. But he didn't get that opportunity. You did. So he expressed his jealousy by making fun of you."
"I don't think that's true."
"Just think about it. Because if you think about it that way, you realize him calling you that isn't about you. It's about him and his own issues of wanting attention."
"His parents both have jobs where they travel all the time and he's an only child so I guess it's possible he craves attention. But it doesn't explain why other people call me that."
"Because they're followers. Hunter's a leader. He tells them what to do and they do it. Some people are leaders, some are followers."
"How do you know all this? Did you read it in a book?"
"Books, blogs, podcasts. I find people I admire and respect and listen to what they have to say."
"That's very mature for someone your age. Most adults aren't even as mature as you."
&nbs
p; "I'll take that as a compliment." His knee brushes against mine and I feel a tingle run up my leg, then between my legs.
Holy crap! That shouldn't have happened. Especially at school!
Moving my leg over, I kiddingly say, "Now the blazer and tie make sense. They're mature like you. Do you dress like that every day?"
"No, just today."
"Because it's the first day?"
"Something like that," he says with a hint of a smile.
"Hey." A guy stops by our table, talking to Wesley. "I like the tie, man. Bold move." He holds his fist up and Wesley fist bumps him.
"Thanks, man." Wesley stands up. "What's your name?"
"Colton. What's yours?"
"Wesley."
"You from the other high school?"
"No. I'm from California. Moved to town last summer."
"Never been to California. People wear ties to school there?"
Wesley laughs. "No. Well, maybe some do, but not many."
He shrugs. "I think it's cool. And the briefcase." He chuckles. "Saw you with it earlier. What's that about?"
"Just a way to carry my laptop."
"It's cool. Weird, but cool."
"Thanks." He glances at me. "You know Luna?"
Colton looks at me. "Yeah. We went to middle school together." He looks back at Wesley. "So, hey, man, I'm having a party Friday night at the house if you want to stop by. I live outside town. We got a few acres so the party will be out back. We'll have a bonfire and shit. You should come."
"What do you think?" Wesley asks me.
"Me? Um, I don't know."
What is Wesley doing? Colton didn't invite me. He has parties all the time and I've never been invited. He's one of the popular people. He's hot and on the basketball team, and last I heard, he's dating a cheerleader.
"You can bring your friend, if you want," Colton says to me.
So I'm invited? Just like that?
"Stella," he says. "Isn't that your friend's name?"
"Yeah," I answer. "She dates Sam. He's a senior."
"Don't know him but he can come too. We've got plenty of room." Colton hands Wesley his phone. "Put your number in. I'll text you the address."
When he's done, Colton takes his phone back. "See you around."
"Yeah, bye."
The Geek and The Goddess Page 3